


Sorry, We Got Sidetracked

by Hazurfurn



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Non-binary character, Shorn-5 is secretly a cat, Zion did not sign up for this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2019-08-30 00:26:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16754344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazurfurn/pseuds/Hazurfurn
Summary: A little ghost named Zion finds her Guardian half buried under a pile of rocks and brings them back as their guardian.This marks the beginning of all the shenanigans the duo will go through to get back to the Last City and whatever adventures they end up being sidetracked together.





	1. The Revival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After years and thousands of miles of searching, a little Ghost has finally found her Guardian.

A little grey and dusty blue triangular Ghost zipped through the patchy area that once was a great forest of the East, but left in ruins during the Collapse and claimed by some foliage. Tall pillar mountains reach to the starry sky around her. Guided by the moonlight, the ghost scanned the desecrated ground, looking for someone to call hers. There were many, many candidates in this war-torn ground, but nothing clicked with her. Nothing yet.

A glint in the moonlight caught her eye. Several hundred yards away at the base of the tall mountainous pillar is a pile of mossy rocks. Curiously and braced for more disappointment, she  zipped to the pile of potential. A broken, rusted hand reaching from the rubble to the starry sky above. At least three-fourths of the fallen guardian is hidden under the rubble. Three, beautiful crimson roses sprouting from a small bush from the broken chest cavity.

“Oh, you poor thing.” Ghost sees the half buried Exo, rusted over and claimed by moss. She gently tapped the tip of her chassis to the outstretched hand. She felt something in the way the empty eyes and slacked jaw is facing the moon overhead.

She can feel it radiating from the shell. Something is returning to the forest around her. The air around her grew cold. Something is returning to what was once the Exo.

“I have searched and traveled to many systems and back, looking for the one I seek as my Guardian. Something drew me to a torn corner of the Earth, to the hidden forests and pillar mountains of the east at the site of a long forgotten battle. I can feel your spirit still lingering in the darkness around, waiting. And I know the Traveler has led me to you.” She emits a soft glow, feeling the energies of the Traveler snake and wind down the arm of the Exo and into the rocks around it.

“I have seen your past- an interesting individual even before your integration into your EXO frame. You were a bright individual, a heart of a lion and the patience of a saint, a traveler of the unknown and unexplainable.” She feels a dull hum come from the Exo’s broken chest. The Light is pooling into the heart of the dead guardian. “You were not afraid to be selfless, years to travel made you immune to the face of a monster and spent the last moments feeling the rocks collapse onto the horde and yourself to save your companions.”  

Rusted metal creak and groan, old circuits spark back to life as the Ghost hovered over the desecrated Exo. The exposed hands fingers twitched, grinding itself free of rusted layers and into a partial fist.

“You closed the book to your human life long ago, your second rebirth ended in a painful cliffhanger.”  Ghost watches as bright white light seemingly cause the broken Exo to spasm with the first breath of new life. “Do you think it is time to begin the third?”

Rusted joints break into use as the sparking hand grasped the rocks around it. Their buried hand shoots through the rubble, sending rocks and dirt everywhere. And before her eye the Guardian pulls the rest of themselves free with some effort. She could not tell if the growling noise is from their voice box or from their joints. White light swirl around them, the broken metal of their body seem to shrink and meld together.

Watching her guardian struggle to stand is like watching a foal try to stand. They slipped and stumble on almost new joints. The jerkiness of their movements lessened as they pulled themselves onto their feet. Light blue light flicker alive in their mouth and eyes. The eyes flickered around them wildly, head and body turning in confusion at the forest, the rocks- themselves. Their hands already flying up to their chest.

She has chosen well.

“Hello Guardian.” She greets gently, helping the newly risen to focus on her. She senses their confusion cease with a curious head tilt. She didn’t dare say the fin on the side of their head and the bright eyed made them look like a puppy. “I am your Ghost.”

“ggH-Gho-” Their voice box kicked into gear, a very high pitched and crackly voice coming from their jaws. They reel back in surprise before giving a heavy cough, slamming a fist into their chest. She cringed (or as close as she can to cringing) as clouds of dust and came from every breath. “Gh-st. Ghost.”

“Oh good, you can talk.” Ghost hovers excitingly around their head. “Do you know your name?”

The Exo gives a hum, deep in thought. They tilt their head at the sky, the trees, the rocks- almost everywhere.

Did her guardian lose all their memory?

“Shorn. My name is Shorn-5.” The fused jaw plates parted slightly, the light blue glow highlighting the sharp teeth as they spoke for the first time in decades she is surprised at their voice- they did not sound like the typical male or female frames in the Last City or beyond.

“Welcome back, Shorn.” She dips a little before floating close to their face. She scans her guardian up and down in their resurrected body. She can see the black, greys and dark blue frame of her Guardian clearly. Dressed in weather-worn plated leather armor, they did not look like a normal Exo frame, having the looks of a customised frame, broad shouldered and chest of a male Exo frame and the slim waist and hips typical of a female frame.

"Do you have a name?" Shorn asks curiously, holding out their palm for her to rest on.

"No I do not- but I won't mind you giving me a nickname of some kind." She blinks at her guardian. They tilt their head in thought for a long minute.

"Zion pops into my head." They say. "Is that alright with you?"

"That sounds like a great name."

They jump off their rock pile and onto soft dirt before turning to Zion, head tilting again. “You said you chose me- for what?”

Zion floated to Shorn’s eye level.

“The Traveler sent us out after the Collapse to find those individuals who can connect to Their Light.” Zion explains. “I chose you because I felt a connection, you are a honorable, noble hunter and I believe you can wield the Light in humanity’s darkest hour.”

A low hum rumbles from Shorn’s throat. A hum of acknowledgment. “Where am I?”

Zion looks around them for a second. "Somewhere in what was once China, I don't know the exact place."

"Where do I go now? Do I wander around? Are there more of us Guardians?"

"The Last City is the place to go now- the Tower is where all the other Guardians are. And the Traveler." Zion explains to them. Clearly Shorn's mind is still processing all the information.

"The Last City- my home-" Shorn blinks in realization. "The Traveler... calls for me."

Zion hovers in front of them, “I believe it is time for you to come home, Shorn.”

They reach to the tattered navy blue cloak on their back and pull the hood over their eyes as they turn to face another direction of the forest. Zion is sure the guardian she chose is stranger than other guardians she has seen being recently revived- Shorn seems more aware than they look to be.

Zion hovers by their right shoulder as Shorn gives a hearty laugh and pulls their trusty knife from their thigh sheath and twirls it around in their hand experimentally before looking at Zion and holding up their hand. She taps her chassis to the open palm, as close to a high-five as she can make it. “Eyes up, guardian. The Last City awaits your return.”

Zion winks away as Shorn takes their first steps into the forest, knife clenched tightly in their hand for any sign of danger.

“Be careful- Fallen has been seen around here.” Zion said to her companion. “I passed by a few of them.”

Shorn gives an acknowledging grunt.

 

* * *

 

The patchy forest and cleared patches did not stop Shorn down at all. They marched on uninterrupted until they reached a clearing did the Exo look up at the sky. Some time ago the stars turned into beautiful hues of orange, red and purples.

“Rain.” Shorn tilts their head at the sky. Zion materialised around their shoulder, eye flickering up to the sky. “Some rain is coming.”

“It seems so.”

Shorn continues back into the forest. They walked for an unknown amount of time before Shorn speaks again.

“It’s too quiet.” They grumble to themselves and Zion to an extent. All their sensors are kicked into overdrive to search for any other presence beside theirs and wildlife. Their grip on their knife has not lessened at all.

“I’m sure the only explanation is there is not much of anything here at all.” Zion winks beside them again.  
“There should be at least signs of settlement of some kind in this vast land-” Shorn gestures with their left hand. “There’s not much of anything any foe of the Traveler would want.”

“You’d be surprised.” Shorn hears Zion mutter, but brushes it off. They walk into a clearing that looked more like a crash site of a ship. It looks to be from the Collapse with the faded, stripped paint, rust and plant growth. Any sort of wiring or machines were already torn out a long time ago.

Something catching their attention, chattering and it is getting close. Shorn halts and raises a hand, Zion blinks away as the hunter dives behind the closest tree, pressing their body to the rough wood. The peer around the wide tree.

A patrol of Dregs were spotted around a broken Golden Age ship a couple hundred yards from their hiding spot. Shorn did not take a moment more to vanish into the treetops above them without rustling as much as a leaf.

“There are three of them.” Zion whisper into their ear.

“I can see that.” Shorn rumbles, moving quickly between thick branches like a big cat on a prowl, never keeping their eyes off their prey- or their footing at the same time. “I was starting to get bored.”

They stopped directly above them, crouched low and ready to drop at any moment. They watch the Dregs pick apart valuable machinery- but they were too close. Shorn grunts and relaxes their pose a little, but their eyes never left any three of them. Little drops of water pelted the leaves, breaking the serenity and soaking their cloak and sticking it to the leather bits of their armor.

“... rain?.” Shorn tilts their head up to feel the heavy drops of water drip down their facial plates, eyes closing to relish the familiar, but soothing feeling. They feel at peace around them, and their fingers twitched in excitement. Their blue eyes open and look down at the targets. “Perfect…”

The two Dregs backs are turned in the open and one strayed a little too far from them. Shorn unsheathed their knife.

They dropped, the only sound made is a small whoosh of their cloak.

Their knife sunk into the neck of a Drag they used it as a landing pad. The Dreg did not feel a thing as their impact and weight snapped it’s spine at the same time they slit its throat, enjoying the feeling of blood splattering on their hands and arm. They rolled away as an arc bolt whizzed over their hood and steadied on their knees before throwing their knife directly into the second ones heart.

“One more behind you.” Zion warns them as they stand and brush their knees off.

Shorn hears the wet footsteps rushing from behind and spins around, using the back of their left hand to knock the offending dagger away from their face and wrap their right arm around its neck- pivoting behind the Dreg and brought their left arm across its face- and yanked their head in the opposite direction. There is a loud crackling noise as the body grew limp in their arms. Shorn steps back and drops the body to the muddy floor. The burst of adrenaline fades from their artificial muscle. They stepped back again to admire the short work they made on the three Fallen and places their hand on their hip.

“That was fun.” Shorn nudges the other two bodies with their foot before kneeling down and retrieving their knife from the second corpse as well as the Dreg’s shock daggers and any ammo. They can feel Zion peering over their shoulder at their actions. “You can never have too many weapons. Or knives in this case.”

“Wise words.”

Shorn sheaths the daggers on the belt crossing their hip. They notice something emitting a blue light from under one of the bodies. They roll the body over to reveal twenty or so of the glowing blue cubes.

“They’re glimmer- City currency as well as gear improvement materials too.” Zion explains. Shorn pockets the glimmer away. When they notice a chest out of the corner of their eyes under a piece of metal.. “Oh, we’re the Dreg hiding their stashe?”

Shorn gives an amused chuckle. “Mine now.”

Shorn walks over to the worn chest and jams their knife into the lock, forcing the hatch open to reveal a pile of Glimmer- and a pistol with a suppressor. Shorn inspected the bloodied pistol (no doubt this was looted) and quickly pocketed the remaining items- but keeping their pistol and knife ready in their hands.

“Let’s keep moving.” Zion materialize beside Shorn. They wiped the water from their face and drew their hood up again. Zion points their eye in the direction that leads them to the edge of the forest. “The City is that way.”


	2. Splash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shorn is secretly a cat and likes to sneak up on things. Also rain brings back memories.

It rained for at one full day. It was heavy rain, the ground became sticky mud and sometimes the excess water would carve streams into the wet earth. It did not help that there was wind as well. But the duo persevered through the heavy rain and evaded detection as they crossed the forest. By the time they came to a dry cave late in the dark Shorn is practically steaming- the cold wind and rain soaked through their cloak and armor and into their frame causing the heating module to kick on in attempt to dry off the components.

Waiting for the rain to let up, Shorn simply laid down and closed their eyes, drifting into a colorful dream.

* * *

 

_Gunpowder, burnt flesh and ozone fills the air. The city they are in is nothing more than charred rubble and ruins. There are cries of the Fallen and Guardians alike. Their feet takes them between buildings- shooting down stragglers with their hand cannon._

_They hear crying. Their mind cry out 'infant'._

_They rush over to the sound of the voice. Jumping over a Walker, turning sharp corners and shooting down at least three more Fallen before continuing their run- bullets whizzing over them, some impacting their armor. The cries led them to a ruined, but intact apartment building. Without a second thought- Shorn kicks the doors in. The sprinklers were spraying water everywhere in various amounts, clouding their vision. The crying is coming from several floors above, nearly drowned by the water that is quickly gathering around their feet. Shorn makes a beeline to the stairs, their human muscles straining from all the running as they sprint up the staircase, following their ears and nearly slipping a few times.  
_

_The cries lead them to the fifth floor- water is cascading down the walls from the four floors above. It is so hard to see. They tear their helmet from their head and slick back their black hair. Their heart is beating against their rib cage and their lungs demand more air. They can hear the cries clearly. They begin to run again against the water, turning left, right, right until they sense a presence behind door 513, confirmed by the infant's cry. Hand cannon ready Shorn kicks the door down. What greets them is a surge of water, a baby's crib is near the window- clearly occupied. What catches their sight is a human woman- slumped on the wall opposite of the crib, blood still flowing from the body._

_A metal fist slams into their cheek, sending them tumbling back into the hallway. They spit out a wad of blood before rolling back onto their feet, the waterlogged cloak adding weight on their back and shoulders. They look up to face a Fallen Captain and his dual sabers.  
_

**_BANG!_ **

* * *

 

What a weird dream.

Blue eyes blink open. They are greeted to the sounds of birds and the blue sky. Their back is stiff from sleeping on the stone floor. They push themselves up to their feet and stretch as they walk out of the cave. The clouds parted to a sun that is high in the sky, the forest comes to life again, birds sing their songs, little animals scamper around. A small deer startled Shorn when it burst from the treeline. The smell of wet plant matter fills their nose.

"Beautiful day don't you agree?" Zion materializes beside them. Shorn nods in agreement.

Shorn rests on a somewhat dry patch of rocks and pokes at a the stream at their feet, their cloak spread on another rock to dry more. They boredly watch a giant water salamander lazily swim pass them. They stare at the black and orange speckled salamander as it stopped a couple of meters from them, resting along the stream bed. A large part of their conscious says to sneak up on it and try to catch it. And maybe pet it. Shorn turns to look at Zion.

“I’ll be right back?”

“Shorn.” Zion says to them in a warning voice as the Exo slides off the rock and onto the stream bed. “No. I am not going to revive you if you drown.”

Shorn ignored their ghost and slipped into the water. A small noise came from their voice box as they registered the icy water. They froze up for a second, before quickly shaking off the sensation and slide into the thigh-high water. With cold water splashing onto their back, they made their way closer to the resting salamander. They stop as it begins to twitch slightly under the waves.

They dived in, their lungs burned and their chest clenched at the shocking cold seeping into their metal frame. Their hands wrapped around the smooth amphibian as best as they can. Except it was very slippery and slipped out of their initial grasp, tail slapping them in the face. It is fast, and they are not about to give up. Shorn kicked off and went after the slippery beast, it did not go far before both of their hands grabs it before drawing it close to their chest. It struggled, tail slapping their face again. And this time Shorn is not letting it get away. They wrap their arms around it’s large torso, drawing it to their chest to keep a strong tail from hitting their face again and to keep a steady hold on it.

They feel the struggle decrease until it is placid in their arms. Shorn gives a mental victory cheer and opens their mouth-

Air. They forgot they needed air. They were too distracted by hunting and catching the giant salamander- they forgot they had lungs (even though they are not entirely organic).

They shot out of the waist-high water and sucks in a much needed gasp of air and water. They immediately double over coughing to rid themselves of the water, hand still around the salamander. Once the coughing ceased they looked over to the location of their triangular ghost, holding the salamander up in triumph, a grin on their face as water is pouring off of them.

“I caught it!” Shorn exclaims proudly, water running from every nook of their frame. They see Zion giving them an unamused blink. The poor ghost was hovering too close and was practically drenched by water from their splashing. “Oops.”

“It is fine, a little water does not damage me.” Zion shakes the water from their body. “Though, I must say, you are very interesting to observe.”

Shorn wades up to shallower water, cradling the large salamander in their arms, one hand gently touching it’s head. And suddenly they are very intrigued by the slimy sensation.

“It is very slimy.” Shorn muses to themself, gently stroking it’s head again. Zion scanned the large salamander. “But it is very adorable.”

“I’m surprised it let you catch it, these amphibians have poor eyesight, but incredible receptors to detect changes in their environment.” Zion scoots back as the salamander opens its wide mouth. Instead of trying to gulp Zion, it made a crying noise similar to an infant. “And their cries are still very off-putting.”

“It’s adorable though.” Shorn scratches it under the chin. The crying stops almost immediately. “I shall call you Wilbur… because it is the first name that comes to my head.”

Zion rolls her eyes at them. “I’m more afraid of being eaten in one bite.”

“Oh.” Shorn blinks in surprise, puffing flecks of water from their lips. “That makes a lot more sense.”

They gently kneel in the water, lowering the salamander to the water. With a burst of power, it swept Shorn’s leg from under them. Shorn lets out a incomprehensible noise as they hear a loud splash and suddenly finds their face under the water, their limbs flailing around to push their body up at least. By the time Shorn picked their head up it was gone from their arms and only a dark blur in the water.

“That was fast. I wish I can move that fast.” Shorn stands up, shaking their head free of water before looking at their splashed ghost. “Let’s get you dried off. I think my cloak is dry enough now.”

Shorn walks over to retrieve their half-dried cloak and picks it up as Zion materialises between their hands. The ghost’s eye closed as Shorn gently pats the cloak around her. Their cloak is not made of the most absorbent of materials, in fact repels water for a duration of time before soaking through- but it is better than nothing.

“There you go, mostly dry.” Shorn opens their palm for Zion to hover again. They swing their cloak around their back, clasps it around their neck and fixes two flaps to their chest plate. Then they reach to grab their gun and knife holsters and fixes them around their belt and thigh.

“Shall we get moving again?” Zion asks them.

Shorn gives their gear one last inspection and gives her an affirmative thumbs up.

“Perfect. At this rate we can clear the forest in about two more days. One and a half if we don’t stop.” Zion spins around before blinking away.

Shorn draws up their hood again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am clearly not trying to think about finals.


	3. Thunderstorm P.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The duo raid a Red Legion base to 'borrow 'a ship.

They covered nearly four days worth of travel by stowing away in a Fallen skiff’s deploy hatch heading west to the a place called the European Dead Zone. Although the ship was eventually shot down over right as they passed a mountain range by several surface to air missiles.

Between the ground meeting them rather quickly and smoke blurring both of their vision, Zion’s scanner show several signs of life from below, the silhouettes identified themselves as-

“Oh no.”

“Jump!”  Her sensors blows red flags into Shorns vision. Before the ship crashed, they leap- rather crashed into the lake below, sending them into freezing waters. Zion shivers in their shared conscious as Shorn’s body registered the shock. Parts of the skiff falls around them, she can only watch as Shorn frantically try to swim to the surface and escape any possible trackers at the same time.

 

* * *

 

 

They paddled quickly to shore and fled into the forest as shouting grew closer as did the sounds of gunfire between the remaining Fallens and the attackers. She can see through Shorn’s eyes the faint red and black armor and white crested helmets that a very powerful enemy has joined the game on Earth.

“Who is _that_?” Shorn whispers as they dive behind a tree, a stray bolt flying over them.

“They are the Cabal-” Zion says to them, pausing as she hears Shorn dives behind a large rock before continuing. “Scanner says the Red Legion- the _elite_ forces of Cabal. Never beaten either.”

Shorn breaks from their hiding and sprints deeper into the treeline, nimbly avoiding any tripping hazard along the way. The heavy rain masking any noise of their escape. They don't know how long they have ran until they broke into a clearing, a winding river dividing the land in half.

“Why is a Red Legion forward base doing in the middle of nowhere?” Shorn grumbles to Zion. Through her Guardian’s eyes and heavy rain she could make out the base belonged to a Red Legion strike team. To the right there are a satellite array and three remaining Red Legion ships still parked in the open field of the gorge. There is at least a hundred of those Red Legion soldiers.

“No idea. _But_ we can use the equipment they have here to our advantage.” Zion directs visual markers onto the satellite tower and the ships. “See if we can get any word on the Last City after I reconfigure the array and we can hijack a ship to get there faster.”

"You got me at 'hijacking a ship'." Shorn gives a silent hum before sliding back down behind the wall. They pull out their holstered pistol, the silencer and a prepared ammo clip. It took them no time to assemble it together again, inspect their assembly and load up their pistol and pull out a shock dagger.

“Is there a time limit for me?” Shorn chuckles as they drag their hood over their eyes.

“Let’s not make this a contest.” Zion chides her Guardian as they slip down the ridge towards the camp. “But do clear it as soon as possible.”

 

* * *

 

The large steel doors of the makeshift base blows open outwards, sending metal bits, smoke, bodies and the doors flying into the clearing. Shorn walks out, using their hand to clear the smoke from their face and over the bodies of several Red Legion soldiers- their dagger lost somewhere inside the base.

Through the brief time they spent together Zion has noted the Exo uses battle tactics that is not seen with many fresh Hunters. They definitely favored their knives over any gun. Any Guardian without a death wish would favor fighting at a distance to be safe. Perhaps it is just combat coding that did not decay? Shorn dispatched the entire base in less than ten minutes, firing their pistol at fuel canisters around the base, triggering an explosive chain reaction and sending the inside up in flames.

“Good idea this place is a refuel station.” They give a lopsided grin, stepping over a charred incendior corpse. They spin the pistol around their fingers, dropping the empty clip and quickly snap a new one in. They stop and look up at a towering, gold armored Cabal with cleavers in each hand. “And you must be the boss.”

The hammerhead looking giant clashed his cleavers together, sending sparks everywhere. The bladed edge of the cleaver glowed red hot- the rain evaporated on contact.

“You do not want to get hit by that- the blade will melt your metal.” Zion says to Shorn who gives her a brief nod.

“I take that as a yes.” Shorn puffs, pulling out their second dagger and aims their pistol.

“Careful Shorn, there are fuel canisters all over this place.” Zion briefly marks them in Shorn’s vision. “Do what you have to, don’t hit the canisters.”

“Understood.” Shorn holster the pistol and draws their hunter knife. “I can’t guarantee on ‘not getting hit’.”

“Do your best, I will stand by for revival.” Zion unlinks herself from Shorn’s consciousness. She materialises behind a Red Legion crate at a safe enough distance to revive her Guardian if needed. She peers around the crate and watches nervously as the two circle each other- baiting the other to strike. She trusts Shorn to make the right decisions, but this standoff has them a bit nervous.

Her sensors read the Cabal as a gladiator and from the readings she is looking at- Shorn may have someone to match their pace with.

Ghu'uc, the Swift. And from the records she can pull up on him from  machines they looked at earlier- he has a rather high kill list.

Eventually the gladiator grew tired at the baiting and charged at Shorn, bringing the cleaver down on their head. Shorn slips aside, using the dagger to direct the blow away from them, thrusting their knife into his thigh. Ghu'uc did not seem fazed by it at all and slammed the butt of his cleaver into their chest, sending them flying back into the muddy ground. The Hunter rolls onto their feet, shaking their head free of mud and raises their blades again. Zion can see a sizable dent in their breastplate.

Thunder rumbles and the sky lights up briefly. Shorn takes the chance and lunges at Ghu'uc, sliding under the slash and jams the shock dagger into the thick wrist, causing the hand to let go of the blade. Standing behind him now, Shorn whips out their pistol and fires off several rounds at his back, causing him to stagger a little on impact.

“That did not do shit.” Shorn holster the pistol again and stepsides as he slashes blindly at them. Zion flinches as Ghu'uc’s fist collides with Shorn’s cheek. Shorn returns with a slash to his face, breaking a piece of his helmet, exposing a portion of his face.

“Nice going.” Zion remarks as Shorn dodges again. Ghu'uc swings down on Shorn, forcing them to hold the offending arm above their head while their other hand is locked with the gladiators incapacitated arm. “That does not look good.”

“You think?” Shorn grunts as they strain at holding the glowing blade above their head. There is a loud boom as lightning struck the sword. Zion closes her eyes at the flash of light. She can hear the Cabal leader reeled in pain, stepping away from Shorn. She blinks open to see Shorn standing frozen, eyes dimmed and tendrils of electricity dancing across their metal body and armor.

Ghu'uc is already readying himself with renewed vigour, grasping at his dual cleavers. Zion does not know if she should be concerned with Shorn’s lack of reaction or not.  
On the other hand, her scanner says the Hunter’s energy levels are over capacitated.

“That felt nice.” Shorn’s voice cuts through the rain. The blue eyes reignited and a blue light glowed behind their jaws. They point at Ghu'uc, beckoning him to attack with an obscene gesture.

And he charged at them. Electricity crackles in their right hand, forming a long electrified staff.

An Arcstrider. Shorn is an Arcstrider. At this point- nothing should surprise her, but Shorn keeps finding a way to surprise her.

With a cry from both sides, the collision erupted with electricity flying everywhere and bright white light blinding her momentarily.

 

* * *

 

 

“When we get to the city- you need a new faceplate.” Zion turns to Shorn as she finishes reconfiguring the signal to the Last City in the ship. Shorn is sitting on Ghu'uc’s smoking body, sporting a large gash on half of their face. Zion wonders how is their left eye still working with the depth of that damage.

“I’ll be fine.” Shorn touches the jagged gash. “Plus it makes me look good.”

Zion rolls her eyes at them. “Well the ship is ready and set to the Last City signal.

Shorn slips down from their seat and pulls out their pistol. They point it at the relay tower and fires into it. The machine bursts into flames behind them as they settle into the pilot’s seat.

“You know how to fly, right?” Zion looks concerningly at Shorn.

“I think I do- or I should be able to?”

“This...  is going to be a long flight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behind the Scenes:
> 
> Shorn-5: "I thought you were going to show me how to fly?"
> 
> Zion: ... 
> 
> Zion: I don't have hands Shorn. What makes you think I can fly?!


	4. Light In The Dark 1/2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shorn-5 and Zion respond to a distress call in the middle of nowhere. Shorn finds a new gun and has some fun with it.

The ruins of the Golden Age stands as a silent time capsule. It was a little fishing town that is slowly being reclaimed by the tundra. A Red Legion thresher flies flies low to the ground. It would seem the ship is only doing a fly by, but if one looked carefully at the lowest point of their flight, the air shimmered slightly before a lone figure solidified.

“Crap in the Legions face it’s cold.” Shorn’s entire frame emits steam the instant they materialize in the middle of a ruined street. They shiver as their body adjust to the sudden cold. “This makes the ship so much cozier.”

Zion blinks next to their face. “Somehow I am glad I do not feel cold as you do.”

“That makes me feel so much better.” Shorn tries to control the slight chatter in their speech as they begin to walk down the broken road.

For the time they walked, there is nothing in audible reach but the howling wind and the creaking of the old buildings- some looking on the verge of collapsing. A sharp, echoing crack makes Shorn spin around, pistol raised at the remains of what seems to be an old house with the second floor collapsed on the first. They looked carefully at the building, eyes and ears straining for any abnormal signs of living movement, but nothing triggered their radar.

“This place give me the shivers- and it’s not from the cold.” They lower their gun before turning to catch up to Zion.

 

* * *

 

 

“... I should’ve grabbed one of their blades” Shorn gives a sigh, Steam escaping their lips as they took refuge in an old brick building with a standing roof. The wind kicked up outside, sending loose debris everywhere, making it too hazardous to traverse. “I mean they look cool- the blades retract and extend into segments. Also the blades are superheated.”

Zion rolls her eyes at them. There is a soft thud as something hit the side of the building. “It wouldn’t even fit on your arm if you padded it.”

Shorn parts their lips to speak, but closes it immediately. “Point taken.”

“We have to stop lollygagging, and let’s see if the distress signal is still on.” Zion nudges one of her corners to the small tablet on Shorn’s hip. Shorn opens the pouch and takes out a tablet the size of their hand. The blue screen flickered on. Shorn pulled out a antenna (looks outdated, but good at finding and sending signals at long distance or in undesirable conditions). And taps several buttons on the blue screen.

_STANDBY FOR LOCATION_

A holographic map begins to form on the display, a small rectangle on the upper right corner scanning all radio frequencies for the signal they found earlier. All seven thousand of them- some new and further away, some ancient and some they don’t even know where or what the signal is about.

“We are somewhere along the Volga River…” Shorn zooms in with a touch and slide of their fingers. They began idly moving along the holographic map as they wait for the scanning to finish. “I wonder where the Last City or Traveler is at on the map?”

_DISTRESS SIGNAL FOUND_

The rectangle blinked and the map moved back to their area. A red little blip flashed at least ten inches from them- nearly three miles from their location.

“There it is.” Zion studies the map, scanning it briefly and floods Shorns vision with a map layout and a white line on the ground leading out the ruined wall.

“Let’s go, we can’t keep anyone waiting if they’re caught in the open.” Zion floats out the wall first. 

“Right… it’s also getting cold too.” Shorn nods and pulls their hood over their head and jogs after their Ghost. “But back on the subject of the arm blade- I can always make one- it would be a good idea I think. Maybe add fire to it too!”

The cold wind howls around them as they duck out of their hiding place and into the cold open after their Ghost. Shorn pulls the safety back on their pistol and  Zion vanishes into their consciousness for safety. Something white lands on their hand. They look up to see a flurry of white slowly falling to the ground.

“Oh it’s snowing.” Zion comments. A smile forms on Shorn’s face, reaching up to catch the little specks that melts on contact.

“Do you think I can build a snowman later?” Shorn asks, the snow collects on their head and shoulders as they walk through the flurry, arm raised over their eyes.

“After we finish this.” Zion replies as Shorn wipes some of the snow built up in the crevices of their face plate.

 

* * *

 

The distress beacon is coming from an abandoned campsite- that looked more like an abandoned factory that blended well into the ruined area. Shorn dipped past the broken chain linked fence, stepping inside with their pistol and knife at ready.

“Any hostiles?” Shorn holds out their knife hand, Zion materialising over it. Their vision is flooded with white grids showing several outlines of; buildings, tents, bodies-

“Wait.” Shorn tucks Zion into their side pouch as they half-jog, half-crouch to the targeted outline of a body behind a tent.

The round the corner, pistol raised for any sign of… anything. At their feet is a Fallen- likely a wretch judging the polearm by it’s side. Shorn kneels down, poking at it with the tip of their knife. They narrow their eyes as fresh blood flows from the small slice.

“They’re fresh.” Shorn looks down to see Zion peeking from their pouch.

“There’s more too.” Shorn points to the several bodies laying here at there, mingled with humans and bullet shells. There is at least thirty bodies here. “A recent raid, they look like guards… “

The stand up and advance, never lowering their pistol and checking each corner for anything alive. Or any of the residents at the least.

“Sense anything?” Shorn whispers to their Ghost. Zion gives a shake of her body and Shorn growls in frustration. They press forward as the snow begins to fall on them again. The quietly step over the bodies, until their feet kicks a discarded hand cannon. They reach down and picked it up, brushing the snow off with their thumb. It is heavy in their hand, but a weapon is a weapon.

With a new gun and a lot more ammo they started out with, they discarded their pistol.

**Clank!**

However they misjudged their distance and the pistol clanged loudly against a hollow canister, the noise echoed around the facility. Several chattering noises can be heard echoing back at them.

“Oh god dammit it was going so well too.” Shorn groans exasperatedly and pulls the hammer back and turns slowly, eyes scanning the area. From the corner of their eye they can see the air move. They spin on their heel and pulled the trigger. A loud boom came from the chamber of the hand cannon- the air where they aimed exploded in a shower of blue blood revealing the cloaked Fallen.

“One.” Shorn laughs feeling a presence coming from the right, they ducked and raised their knife to deflect the electrified blade, slamming the muzzle under their jaw and pulled the trigger, showering them in a flurry of blood and brains. “Two.”

A kick to their back sent them face first into a metal wall and falling face-first into a pile of snow. Shorn rolls onto their back and roll on their arm, kicking the wretch across the face with their boot. It disoriented it enough for Shorn to put a bullet into its chest. “Three.”

A guttural cry came from the overhang above. Shorn grabs the spear and rolls aside, jabbing the spear up, smiling as it feels resistance of whatever landed on it, there is a slight gurgle before the spear grew heavy. “Four.”

They quickly check their ammo. Two shots left. From the shifting air (and from the falling snow) there is at least three left as well.

“Alright.” Shorn rolls their neck and raises their gun again. “Bring it on.”

They keep their eyes on the first moving one, watching as it runs up a decimated buildings  second story beam. Their vision highlights the weak part of the criss-cross of beams thanks to Zion and Shorn fires at it. A good part of the roof and brittle beams collapse, the Fallen piled on by metal and snow.

“Five?” Shorn arches an eyebrow at it- not sure it is dead or not- they made a note to check on it after they deal with the last one.

“Back.” Zion shouts in their mind. Shorn leans back from a blade aimed at their neck. They stab the knife into the arm and plants their boot into its chest, freeing themself and quickly aim their gun in it’s chest and fires.

The last bullet echoes and fades into total, comfortable silence.

“That’s the last one.” Shorn wipes their face with their cloak. They walk over to the buried Fallen- clearly dead with a snapped spine from the weight of the falling metal. “Oh, it’s dead.”

“You sound disappointed.” Zion floats from the pouch as Shorn reloads the hand cannons cartilage individually.

“Eh, not really… Kinda glad.” Shorn shrugs and wipes the blood off of their knife on the closest wretches robe. They eye the symbol on the cloth curiously. “Do you know what symbol this is?”

Zion floats in front of them, scanning the cloth with their eye for a good minute.

“They hail from the House of Stone.” Zion returns to their side. Shorn nods, never hearing that House before. They stand up and brush their knees off and sheaths their knife.

“Before I question more about this House- there is a important task at hand.” Shorn looks at the ruined camp/facility. “Where did everybody go in such a short notice?”

Zion is about to answer when a sharp cry echoes around the camp. Shorn’s body freezes, head and eyes shifting wildly on instinct to locate the sound.

It is a baby. Someone is still alive.

“Someone got left behind.” They grab Zion who squeaks at the sudden roughness as they break into a sprint down the alley of broken homes and tents.

They sprint around the corner, kicking snow everywhere. They hear Zion shouting about it being a possible trap, but they ignored her. They skid to a stop to try and hear the cry again, but is met with wind. They hear a muffled shushing noise coming somewhere near them.

“Two are alive… Possibly.” Shorn sheaths their cannon on their thigh and pulls out their knife instead. The air around them is silent of any Fallen or human activity.

“Shorn…” Zion whispers to their Guardian. Shorn ignores her with a grunt.

“I’m not leaving anyone behind again.” Shorn sneaks up to a metal structure with heavy cloth that made up the door. They clenched their knife hard, ready for any retaliation. “No matter the cost, trap or not.”

Their grab the heavy cloth, silently counting down to one. A brief image of an flooded room with a crib, a dead mother and a Fallen captain filled their mind and faded as briefly as it came. They yanked the cloth aside and stepped in, ready to face anything down and for anything that may be be the opposite of alive. They expected the dim room to be splattered with blood and flooded with snow or something

Instead, they are greeted with a pale blue skinned female in snow clothes with red hair looking back at them, their orange eyes so full of fright clutching a infant-sized bundle to her chest. She has a pack strapped across her back. The duo is huddled in the furthest corner of the room.

“You're safe…” Shorn lets out a sigh of relief, a shaky hand lowering their knife. Zion floats up next to them as Shorn mutters. “No one’s dead.”

“Shorn.” Zion nudges the Exo’s damaged face, speaking in a calm voice. Blue eyes blink to focus on the Ghost. “It’s okay. But they need our help right now.””

Shorn slowly squats down shuffling to the little lamp, letting the mother see their face. They raise their hands in a non-threatening manner. “It’s okay, I’m here to help.”

She still seemed tense. Zion gently hovered in front of Shorn, emitting her own light. The mother visibly relaxed a little at Zion’s presence.

“You’re a Guardian…” She whispers, looking directly at Shorn’s highlighted face.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now.” Shorn asks in the most gentle voice they can muster, kneeing a few feet from her. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

She shakes her head. She is starting to relax in their presence.

“What is your name?” Shorn gently asks her before eying the infant in her arms. “And theirs.”

“Malno.” She answered a bit less shakily. She then nudges the bundle in her arms. “My little girl’s name is Zes.”

“Beautiful names.” Shorn leans a little to try and catch a glimpse of the baby girl- but Zion bumps them in the face. “I am Shorn-5 or Shorn and my Ghost friend here is Zion.”

“Malno, do you know where everyone is?” Zion asks her. Malno nods and points in the direction of the old facility.

“The rest of the people evacuated when the Fallen attacked. I got seperated when it happened and I hid in here.” She answers. “We have an escape tunnel that leads to an hilly forest area several miles west of here.”

“We’ll bring you to them.” Shorn stands up, holding up a hand. “No one should get left behind.”

Malno hesitantly takes their hand with her shaky one. She is only as tall to Shorn’s chin and much thinner too. Shorn unclasps their cloak and drapes it around her shoulders. They shiver at the loss of warmth that was their cloak. The Hunter and Ghost lead the mother and child duo into the ruined camp, now clear of any enemies.

They quickly make their way across the camp to the old facility- that clearly has been recently used. The thick rusted doors hinges had cleaning marks on it. Zion has already vanished into the interface as Shorn stands in front of Malno, hand cannon raised and eyes scanning the area for any more Fallen or the like. Minutes of silence, the gates creaked open slightly, Malno slipped in first, followed by Zion and then Shorn. The gates slam shut behind them. The empty facility is fairly dark, damp and cold. Before them is a partly open vault door- and a long, dimly lit tunnel. The sound of rushing water echos around them as well.

“Honestly what is more terrifying is the pair of glowing blue eyes in the dark at the moment.” Malno comments with a soft laugh. Shorn rolls their eyes as Zion becomes a soft white light.

“Would you rather be seeing no eyes at all then?” Shorn gives a laugh. “Just kidding- I won’t be able to see.”

“How long do you think will we catch up with them?” Zion asks the Awoken mother.

“Maybe three days until we pass to the other side.” She shrugs before nudging Shorn’s side with a bony elbow. “What do you say Shorn and Zion- let’s get going?”

“Sounds good.” Zion hovers near Malno. “Lead the way.”


	5. Light In The Dark 2/2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They are homeward bound and Shorn may have gotten a little too attached to a baby.

_“Remember this place?” Shorn hears a familiar feminine voice in the dream. They are in the in a large room lit with blue fire torches flickering along the walls and braziers hanging overhead. There are plaques and some statues lining the indents in the wall. Shorn and another fellow guardian is standing in front of an golden plaque set into the wall. It had two names inscribed into it. Shorn tries to look at their own face, but their face is a blur against the mirror-like surface. There is a faint vibration of gears coming from their body._

_Theobe Verkas and Felix-_

_Two ruined helmets- one with a broken visor (clearly made for a Hunter) and other, a second enclosed helmet hat is missing half the head belonged to a Titan._

_“The Hall of Remembrance.” Shorn hears their human voice come through. They turn to face their Warlock companion, dressed in red and black robes with polished metal plates on their shoulders and legs. She had dark olive skin and light brown hair that is tied into a neat bun on their head. She turns to look at them with their soft green eyes. “Is it time Keira?”_

_“You know it. They missed us- and we miss them.” The Warlock places her beaked helmet in front of the plaque and stands up, brushing her plated knees off. Shorn follows, standing up beside their her, placing their helmet besides hers. “Every legendary fireteam is recorded here in the temple. Even though we are the only ones left of the Fireteam Phoenix.”_

_They both place a bouquet of green and orange flowers._

_Shorn places a hand on Keira’s shoulder. She turns to face them and gives a small laugh. “You know, it is like last week you nearly shot yourself in the foot when you met me at the temple.”_

_“ Theobe and Felix-9 never let me live that one down. ” Shorn grumbles. Keira pokes their cheek with a gloved finger._

_“And it feels like yesterday the four of us took down an entire legion on top of a mountain. The Taken standing no chance against us and our sheer badassery.”_

 

* * *

  
_Drip. Drip._

Shorn opens their eyes as water drop against their cheek, they wipe the wetness from their face. They were still in the tunnel. The damp, dark tunnel that seems to go on forever. It is dark and Shorn glances around for their Ghost. Their eyes eventually landed on Zion pressed up against little Zes’ cheek, powered down. Around them, Shorn can make out Malno curled under their cloak beside her daughter. They push onto their elbow and strain to hear any abnormal sounds from the echos around them- but nothing alerts them.

“Shorn?” They look down to the whispering voice. Malno has awaken and Shorn’s mind jumps to the conclusion that they accidentally woken her up.

“Yes?” Shorn rumbles quietly. “Is there something you need? If I woken you up- I apologize for that.”

“It’s fine.” She adjust her jacket pillow. “Is there something wrong?”

Shorn shakes their head slowly, but Malno raises a finger to their face.

“I know something is up,” She mutters, slowly sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “You were saying someone's name in your sleep and moving around a lot.”

Shorn sits up to face Malno properly, their arm getting tired anyways. “In all honesty, I had another memory.”

“Really…” Malno looks surprised and interested, leaning forward on her elbow. “What did you remember?”

“A temple… The Hall of…  something.” Shorn withholds the last bit. “I was with a Warlock- we were close. Very close it seems from my past conversations.”

“Is her name Keira?” Malno asks.

“Yeah-” Shorn is about to say more but there is a cry coming from little Zes. Zion is up in a flash- blinding them with sudden white light. Malno hisses, covering her eyes. Shorn growls, shutting  their optics at the bright light.

“Oi-”

“Is that necessary?”

“Sorry- sorry!” Zion dims, looking between them. “I heard the baby cry and I reacted- I am so sorry for waking you two up.”  
Zes giggles at them, amused at the situation.

 

* * *

 

“These tunnels do not look naturally formed.” Zion comments, flashing their eyes almost everywhere in the dim tunnel. Shorn almost tripped- three times because they cannot see the offending objects sticking out of the ground thanks to Zion looking around so much.

“They were there as an escape tunnel from the time of the Collapse, especially in case large populations needed to evacuate quickly, the tunnels can serve as it.” Malno motions to the slightly rusted beams that hold up the tunnel. Shorn can make out scratches along the sides of the walls. “Situations like this for instance is one of it.”

“Interesting,” Zion gives a curious hum, flying over to a half collapsed wall that flowed with water. Shorn looks back at Malno, who is leaning against the rock wall, rolling her shoulders while adjusting little Zes in her arms. She is saying something to Zes with a big smile, probably entertaining her for the time being. Fatigue is clearly set on Malno’s posture and Shorn is getting a little concerned.

“How long have we been walking?” Shorn says over to Zion. The Ghost perks up from examining her environment and turns to Shorn probably realizing the slight problem- the Guardian and Ghost duo may have forgotten fatigue as a factor for non-Guardians.

“Nearly six hours.” She answers after a few moments of silence and rotating faces. “My scanner says it is dawn soon.”

Snorn nods and looks over to Malno before announcing. “Let's take a break. Is the running water drinkable?”

“With some boiling, it can be.” Zion whirls around in her place. “Don’t want to take any chances with just drinking it.”

Shorn walks over to Malno as she slides down the wall to sit on a large rock platform.

“I can hold her for a while you rest.” Shorn offers, kneeling in front of her. They know it must be tiring to carry around something like a child for hours on end.

“I-” Malno looks at the sleeping child before looking back up at them. “I’m not sure- I don’t know if she will cry like she does.”

She doesn’t want to let go of Zes.

“I know you are tired and I will be gentle with her.” Shorn assures. They can see the hesitation on her face, flickering their eyes between Shorn and Zes, who is waking up again, specks of blue looking back at them as they made eye contact.

Malno holds her out slightly and Shorn reaches out with both arms. They both hear little cooing noises as her curious blue eyes look over to the Exo Guardian. Shorn pulls her close to their chest and let a low rumble come from their chest, eliciting a giggle from her. Up close they can see that Zes is a human baby, patchy black hair hidden under the wraps.

“Hello Zes.” Shorn rumbles as a tiny hand bats their chest piece with soft ‘thumps’.

“How old is she?” Shorn asks as another hand reaches up to their face. Shorn raises their arms for a baby soft hand to pat the undamaged part of their face plate. “Aren't you a feisty little one.”

“She is probably no older than a couple months or so- five at most.” Malno answers, taking a drink of water from a hip flask. “I found her in one of our safehouses not too far from the camp.”

If they weren't so distracted by Zes trying to pull their facial plating off, they would’ve questioned about the ‘safehouses’ bit. Shorn can feel her watchful eyes on their actions. They hold her close to their chest as she slowly dozed off to sleep.

“You fed her probably a couple hours ago so it should still be fine?” Shorn asks in a quiet voice. Malno shrugs. Shorn didn’t feel like shouting to Zion and waking the baby in their arms up.

“You know, you’re awfully good at this. You must have had a child before.” Malno remarks at how placed Zes is. “Zes doesn't let anyone hold her, let alone being taken from me.”

“I would’ve just guessed Zes is this quiet. I don’t remember if I had a child or not. ” They reply with a shrug of their left shoulder. “This feels like second nature to me.”

They spent at least a half hour with Zes sprawled on their chest, absorbing the generated warmth and letting Malno take a well deserved break. Zion is somewhere close to them, scanning almost everything for data.

“So… you said you found Zes, abandoned.” Shorn asks with curiosity, looking over to Malno. “What will happen to her once we reunite you both with the others?”

 

“Well…” Malno begins, tilting her head back to the cool rocks. She fidgets with their dark cloak around her shoulders. “I’ve been taking care of Zes for at least a few weeks and no doubt she is attached to me.”

She turns her head to look at Shorn with a small smile. “I didn’t think that far ahead yet.”

Shorn tilts their head back to the metal beam and looks at the rocky ceiling. “You still have some time to think about it.”

“Yeah… “ Malno agrees before muttering something under her breath that Shorn can't hear. A pregnant pause filled the air between them. It feels a little awkward now and Shorn feels a little embarrassed for asking.

“I am ready to go.” Malno says out of nowhere, stretching her stiff muscles. Shorn nods and holds out Zes for the return to her mother. “A couple more hours and we’ll be free.”

 

* * *

 

They walked from another two hours, the same old tunnel became the strongest dissociation of time. Zion halted suddenly. Shorn tilts their head at their Ghost. “What is it?”

“Shorn. Something is up.” Zion spins around to look behind them. Their hand already at their hand cannon, the other hand already has their knife drawn and held out in front of them. “I sense one foreign signature.”

“Get behind me, both of you.” Shorn pushes Malnon behind them. Zion blimps right behind Shorn.

They hear a scratching noise- like claws on rock moving very quickly towards them. In the darkness Shorn can see a pair of orange dots and shimmering against Zion’s light.

“It’s the one we missed.” Shorn growls. They hesitate on pulling the trigger as who would know if the reverb will draw anything else out in the darkness. They really wished they kept their pistol now even though it did nothing.

Shorn holsters the hand cannon quickly and readies themself to meet the Fallen head on with one dagger to two electrified swords.

_Ping!_

Shorn feels a bullet whizz by their face. The Fallen’s stealth cloak dropped and Shorn notes a clean hole in it’s head above the left cluster of eyes. The body lands on the stone ground and ragdolls the way to Shorn’s feet. They whip around to see Malno with a raised large pistol with a thin stream of smoke coming from the silencer. There is a giggle coming from Zes.

“I can’t let you have all the fun.” She puts the gun back into her jacket. “Sure you were badass and all, where’s the fun in sitting around like a damsel in distress. I’ve been so busy lately with Zes I couldn’t get a mission- let along let a chance like this pass up. A hand cannon would’ve attracted everything for miles with the reverb.”

“I’m not even mad about loosing my kill,” Shorn walks back over to her, sheathing their dagger. “But-I'm impressed. And I guess Zes enjoyed the view.”

“Please, I was raised with guns. Look how I turned out- it should be fine.” Malno scoffs. “I am one of the settlements scout division captain.”

“You’ve definitely scouted a way to my heart then.” Shorn says with a wide, toothy smile, making a finger gun at her. Malno is clearly trying not to either laugh or shoot them in the head- or both.

“Keep moving you hot piece of metal.” Malno says sarcastically with a roll of her eyes and turns on her heels, beginning to walk deeper into the tunnel. “We’re almost there- I can smell it in the air.”

“Really? ‘scouted a way to my heart?” Zion hovers above Shorn’s shoulder.She says unamused. “That’s very cheeky.”

“It’s better than the other one I had in mind.” Shorn shrugs.

“I don’t want to hear it.” Zion sighs, hovering after Shorn who is jogging to catch up to Malno.

 

* * *

 

They rested the night rather Malno did. Shorn carried them in their arms throughout the night to make progress. Malno woke up some time later, alert and instantly begins to sniff the air. Zion notes a drop in temperature and a slight breeze.

They could see orange light at the end of the tunnel. Literally. The smell of crisp mountain air drives the stagnant tunnel air and fills their lungs and gives them the second wind they needed to burst through into the open stretch woodland as far as the eye can see. The sun is rising in the sky, bathing the land with warm orange light. There is slight fog coming with their every breath.

“Look!” Malno points to three smoke pillar in the distance on what seems to be a hill. “They’re still there- we can still catch up.”

Zion gives feedback onto their vision- at this rate and distance it would take them the morning to get there. Shorn grunts and walks up behind Malno, the scout captain gives a squeak of surprise as Shorn scoops them into their arms.

“Instead of four hours- I’ll cut it down by ninety percent for you.” Shorn offers with a wink before looking to Zion. “Can we use the ship teleporter to get us closer now I have visual?”

“I positive we can.” Zion vanishes into their shared mind. Data points and markers flow into their vision, a loading bar is quickly rising. “Standing by for teleportation.”

“Hang on tight to me.” Shorn mutters as orange lines begins to appear on them, causing fractals of their body to dissolve into nothingness.

Teleporting is a strange feeling that takes time getting used to- you’re feeling light one second, floating the next, and then you’re in a whole new area all within a blink of an eye. Shorn landed them within a five minute walk to the camp behind some tree cover on a hill. They can see a dozen makeshift tents erected in the cold morning, fires burning to keep the residents warm.

“We made it.” Shorn lets Malno stand on her two feet. They escort her close to the camp where one can smell the food being cooked inside the tents when Malno turns to face them.

“Thank you for bringing me back to my people, Shorn.” Malno smiles up at them. “I can never repay you in my lifetime for this.”

“I’m a Guardian- it’s my job, no need to thank me.” Shorn places a hand on their hip. “Although, you can pay me by promising me one thing or two. ”

“Promise me that you will be safe- being a scout and all.” Shorn looks her dead in the eye. “And two- take good care of Zes because she is very adorable- can I see her one last time?"

Malno holds Zes between them, Shorn giving a soft rumble as a tiny hand reaches out to grab their face- again. Shorn lets her hold their finger.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about it. And I made up my mind on Zes.” Shorn turns to look at Malno- who is focused on the human baby in her arms. “I’ll take care of Zes, me and the girls can raise her.”  
  
“That’s what I wanted to hear.” They give a nod of approval. They catch some noise coming from the camp and looks back at Malno “They’re waking up- you should go now.”

“Thank you again, and goodbye Shorn.” The scout nods and turn to the camp again and with a deep breath she begins to march towards her people.

Shorn watches them go, bare acknowledging Zion materialising their back up cloak on their shoulders. They mutter a thanks as they pull the dark hood over their eyes and turn around to vanish into the trees-

“Shorn!” Malno calls to the Exo. Shorn turns back around to face the young woman.

“Yeah?” Shorn tilts their head curiously at what she has to say.

“Will we see each other again?” She asks them.

It’s a good question Shorn didn’t even think of yet. Zion materialises around them. For one- they don’t know where Malno will go. Two, it would be too risky to bring her and Zes on board their ship which still bares the Red Legion mark (even though shittily crossed out with knife slashes).

“I think we will cross paths again in the future.” Shorn says confidently with a smile. Malno returns the smile and turns around to the camp. Upon arrival she is greeted by guards and some residents with hugs and pats on the back. Shorn silently slipped back into the foliage and when Malno turns to mention them- there is no one there.

  
The only proof of her story and the Guardian’s existence is the tattered navy cloak on her shoulders fluttering gently in the morning breeze.


	6. Rubble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they get shot down and decide to do a little information gathering.

Zion hovers patiently over a piece of rubble as a bright light flashes from under it. She waits as a large piece of metal flies to the side, showing a very disgruntled but newly reformed Exo trapped underneath.

“Who in the right mind puts a reserve missile pod on the outside of the ship?” Shorn says out loud, kicking the flaming rubble on their left leg. 

“Obviously the Red Legion?” Zion replies sarcastically as Shorn roses to their feet and brushes off their pants. They both turned around to take a look at the wreck that is their ship. Or was their ship. They were miraculously landed on a flat cliff with sharp ridges jutting on all sides of them. And there are ribbons of smoke dancing in the cold, high altitude air.

“Wow… this is not the desirable outcome.” Zion spins around, taking note of their situation, she can highlight several weapon battery platforms lining the ridges- “We are smack dab in the middle of a weapon platform.” 

They had just passed over the mountain ridge when they were shot down by volleys of missiles. Shorn was ejected from the craft and crashed into a sharp boulder before a flaming gunship wing landed on top of them. 

“So we are in Legion territory. Again” Shorn puts a hand on their hip. “Are they trying to use the mountains to compensate for something?

“I mean… even if they are, I’m not entirely surprised?” Zion makes a shrugging motion with her shell. She peers down the cliff and sees wreckages everywhere, littering the ground hundreds of feet below them. Some of them have the mark of the Last City. “And from the looks of it, we are not the only one.” 

Shorn joins her and sucks in a breath between their teeth at the sight. “Oh shit…”

“We need to get moving, they might come down to investigate.” Shorn walks back to the wreck and starts rummaging around the broken hull. “I’ll gather any supplies I can use and get.”

Zion floats over to them, watching as Shorn pulls a dark satchel of some kind from under the pilot seat and grabs some cylinders, scraps of metal, tools, and a canister of dark oil. They zip the bag close and slings it over their chest, right wing it flush to their back.

“I am assuming the only way we get out is through the platform?” Shorn asks, pulling out their hand cannon. 

“Sadly that is the only option.” Zion looks at the glistening tip of the large earth-shaker cannon above them. Just behind the third cannon is a large tower with orange windows. It is without a doubt the control tower.“No doubt it will be heavily guarded.” 

How can she make this fun for Shorn? They can’t draw all the attention with limited ammo. She looks at their weapon of choice. “How good are you at sneaking around?” 

Shorn gives her a toothy grin and holsters their hand cannon, pulling out their knife instead. “Let’s find out, shall we?” 

 

* * *

  
“Ten behind the metal shipping container to your right and five more to the left around the corner.” Zion marks them out in their vision. They are couched behind several large crates on a ridge above. Shorns eyes flick to the frames above, flickering between the two parties for a while. 

“Understood.” Shorn mumbles to her. Their vision flickers around their environment before moving to focus on the left group.

She watches as the Hunter crouch down and move to the left, their hand grabbing a couple rocks and metal screws. They paused behind a wide pillar and peered around, pulling the hood lower onto their face with their free hand. Their vision highlights the heat signatures behind any obstructions. Shorn chucks the handful of debris a couple hundred yards away from them with several clinks and clanks. The noise is successful in drawing their attention away and far away enough to not alerting the other group.    


Shorn scales the metal beam with ease, pulling themselves onto the top of the structure. They roll into a crouch and Zion highlights the building containing the first cannon. It looked like a massive black and red warehouse with a giant cannon sticking out of it.

“Should we sabotage it while we are in there?” Shorn says quietly to her. 

“I think we can sabotage them all with the control tower.” Zion replies. She sees the slight nod in their shared vision before Shorn moves stealthily across the top in a half crawl. 

Shorn waits for several seconds more after the Psion to round the corner did they drop down and pull the unsuspecting victim behind discarded beams.

They wrap one arm around the thin neck of the sniper, stifling any sort of noise from their leaving their mouth. Their free hand pushing the rifle away from them as they cross their arms over it’s neck and pull inwards towards their chest. The Psion stops struggling and falls limp, rifle falling out of their arms. Shorn catches it with their foot before it clatters to the ground. They quickly prop the unconscious sniper against a few crates with the rifle on their lap. 

“Let’s go.” Zion whispers. Shorn quietly jumps onto the bunch of metal crates and pull themselves onto a overhead platform. “Take a sharp left into the maintenance shafts.”

Shorn grabs the horizontal shafts and pulls hard- nearly the entire grate coming off with it. They can both hear the unintelligible chattering of the Cabal echoing behind them. They quickly slide inside, their feet finding purchase on solid metal ground of what makes the dark, damp maintenance tunnels that criss-cross the base. “Keep moving, I'm sending out a data trail in your vision to follow.”

A blue light trail appears in their vision, guiding them around the cramped, dim corner. Shorns vision turns off in the dim light and switches over to colored night vision. 

“Out of curiosity- how long do these tunnels go?” Shorn asks over the sounds of moving machines and their echoing taps of their footsteps. Zion gives a thoughtful hum as she runs over the data she has taken from their environment. 

“They seem to go for a few miles.” Zion responds as she finishes analyzing the data. “I am afraid to ask what you are planning.”

“Not me,” Shorn gives a slight chuckle. They look up to see rows and columns of fuel canisters and large ammo rounds overhead. “But the fact this is also a ammo feeder tunnel… ”

They feel a rumble running through the tunnel.

**BOOM**!

A earth-shattering roar and muffled explosion throws Shorn off their feet and next to a fuel canister on the wall. There is a mechanical noise that sounded like a bullet being reloaded into the chamber. Above them, the ammo belt moved over by one.

“Oh- wow that packed a punch.” Zion runs a short analysis on their Guardian for any compromising damage. Luckily there is only a few dents and nothing more. Shorn gives a grunt as they stand up and shakes the inconvenience off and jogs down the dark halls before the cannon fires again. 

Eventually, the blue line comes to a stop at a vent on their right with rays of sunlight flowing through it. “Perfect timing.”

Shorn’s vision returned to normal with the introduction of light. They crouched down and peered through the vents, looking for signs of movement before pulling the grate back and crawl back into the light. The control tower is in view now. 

“Almost there.” Zion gives a breath of relief. Shorn climbs onto the tall fuel towers and take in their environment. Zion highlights at least thirty guards leading up to the tower. The amount of high buildings is playing in their favor. “I’m liking the odds here.”

“Me too.” Shorn pulls the hood over their eyes again. They take a few strides back and pull into a sprint.

 

* * *

 

Breaking in was almost too easy. They crawled up a ventilation shaft that lead directly into the control room- a near panorama view of the entire mountain range and what lays beyond. Knocking out the ten man crew was easy too. Zion went down and commenced an entire building lock down and Shorn tossed a gas bomb into the room before crawling to the exhaust end of the vent that lead outside and waited. Zion shuts down all the cannon’s while she is hiding inside as well.

“Nice work.” Shorn holds out their fist and Zion bumps it with her entire body. “Do your thing and I’ll watch your back.” 

Zion begins to scan the control panels, tapping into the mainframe and scanning through the databases and inputs. Letters and numbers fly through her vision by the hundreds and she is reading as fast as it can feed her 

Few phrases stood out to her.

DOMINUS GHAUL APPROACHING OUTER SYSTEM

“And they could not make it any less conspicuous…” Zion quickly reads through the input before her single eye widen in surprise. “Oh no. This is bad.”   
  
She tears away from the screen. Dominus Ghaul- the leader of the Red Legion, the Destroyer- has arrived in their solar system yesterday.

“Shorn- I have bad news- like ‘we have to start moving’ bad.” Zion calls to her companion. Shorn whips around to find Zion hovering inches from their face. 

“What’s wrong?” They take a step back. 

“The leader of the Red Legion is Dominus Ghaul and let’s say he has arrived into our solar system a day ago and he has something that can ‘take their Light..” Zion keeps it brief. Shorn blinks in a mixture of astonishment, shock and processing the information. Guardians need the Light to function and Ghosts like Zion needs the Light to revive their Guardians. She hovers to their eye level and cuts them off before they can say anything more.

“I know we don’t have a ship, but we have to move- _now_.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finished my finals.... Now onto winter classes in a few weeks.


	7. +1 Party Member

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new member joins their party.

“How much more is it to the Last City?” Shorn climbs onto a tall rock and perches on it like a cat. They’ve been walking for days now and all they meet is wreckages from the Golden Age littering the earth as far as the eye can see. No large vegetation has grown over except for the hardy knee-high grasses and shrubs and bushes. “We’ve been walking for days.”

“I… don’t really know.” Comes the voice in their head.

“What do you mean?” Shorn wasn’t irritated, just a bit confused as they never heard Zion say that phrase in this situation before. They ducked behind a large crooked piece of rusted metal before replying; “Is something wrong?”

“Something is blocking my… everything. I can’t get an accurate reading on anything.” Zion pulls a near transparent map on their vision. The normally detailed map is now filled with patchy blocks of missing data.

“Interesting.” Shorn blinks the map away. “Is there anything that could do that beside millennia old machines that probably doesn’t work anymore?”

Zion hovers into the physical realm. Shorn habitually holds out a hand for them to hover on.

“Possibly?” Zion zips around their head once. “Hard to tell, But I’m certain someone’s messing with me here.”

Shorn holds the Ghost protective to their chest and peers around over the warped metal. Their vision is washed in a translucent light blue grid for a good distance. It begins to highlight any movement other than the wind in the grass. While their sensors are not at extensive or detailed as Zion, it is enough to act on its own.

“Zion, can you try syncing to me and use whatever is available in my targeting interface. It’s better than going in blindly.” They can feel the Ghosts presence in their head again, and immediately tabs of information shows up wherever their eyes focus on something.

“Did you know the ‘ear fins’ on your head is actually an extended sensor unit?”

 

* * *

 

For Traveler knows how long they walked with the sun in the sky, fingers drumming anxiously on the grip of their hand cannon. They seem to be a quarter through with no encounters with known enemies, but a few harmless animals.

Until a rotting smell hits their olfactory sensors and their ‘ears’ twitch slightly in the direction of the smell. They pick up a faint smell of unknown energy as well. If something is rotting, and there is a trace of energy material- it’s worth investigating in Shorn’s book (and by extent Zion’s). With the aid of Zion, they follow a marked scent trail to a small patted down area between decayed two plane wrecks.

“Wow.” Shorn pulls the lip of their hood back to get a better look at the decaying matter. There is clearly a rotted carcass sitting in the field with with black scorch marks- telltale signs of energy weapons. Unfortunately the remains are too scattered for Shorn to make out entirely. But from the cold touch- it’s been dead for a at least a few days.

“Judging by the bones you are seeing- it’s a large feline, perhaps a leopard.” Zion remarks. She focuses on the energy signature emitting from the carcass. “But I don’t recognize the energy signature, the radiation emitting from it is different. But it does resemble the reading of ether.”

They squat down and picked up the skull- a large feline skull. In its jaws is a large piece of yellow metal that is rough to the touch. Shorn pockets the chunk of metal for layer analysis and rests the skull on the ground. “Could it be a modified weapon or a new one? Highly doubt on the later.”

“I honestly have no idea. It’s a new reading for my database.”

Their ears twitch again at a faint sound. And in an instant their handgun is drawn and the hammer pulled back.

“Pretty sure there is no one here but us. But I ‘hear’ movement.”

“There’s no one in the vicinity but us and - hold on…  ” Zion’s discovery makes them stop where they stand and raise their hand cannon in ready. “There is a small life form being detected, it’s faint, but there.”

Small, sharp meows becomes audible.

Shorn pauses and looks around. The mews come again and shorn quietly walks in the direction towards a pile of metal. And inside the little den is a gold and white fur cat with dark spots all over. It’s bright grey eyes focused on their blue eyes.

“Well aren’t you an adorable-“ Shorn blinks as information is pulled into their peripheral vision. “Leopard? They come around these parts?”

“With the cataclysmic event in the Pre-Golden Age- lots of ecosystems shifted and different species started to migrate into different areas of the world.” Zion appears beside them and lowers to the small cat. “Hm, he seems to very young, still relying on a parent-”

The cub gives a swipes at Zion with surprisingly sharp claws- grabbing the Ghost in its large paws. Zion makes a screeching noise as she is now become a chew toy for the cub. Shorn suppresses a fit of laughter as his little fangs scratch the layer of paint on Zions shell.

“Either way- this cub is too young to survive on his own- Ow.” Zion closes her eye as a claw runs over it.

“I think… ” Shorn gives a thoughtful hum, running a hand through its short fur. “We can do that.”

“You’re seriously considering adopting him?” Zion manifests besides them. Shorn ignores her and focuses on the young cub that is digging into their leg with claws and gnaws on their knee plate.

“He’s an orphan.” Shorn sits down beside the chirping cub. “And considering he has some teeth and some recently picked bones- he’s still rather young.”

“Just because you will become a chew toy for a while, doesn’t mean that’s stopping me.” Shorn reaches down to gently pry him off their leg. “And I am not going to let him die out here.”

“How will you raise him?” Zion narrowly avoids a swiping paw again. Shorn’s ear twitch at the faint noise of movement outside.

“There’s plenty of fauna around and on the way I can hunt.” Shorn can feel claws on the armored part of their back. They reach around and pick him up by the scruff of his neck and onto their lap. “He’s young and there’s no one else that can help. And from your information- without his mother, the territory is open to other leopards that may kill him.”

“I’ll take responsibility for him.”

Zion stays silent for a while, watching them. Shorn can see her running through so many scenarios and outcome in her mind from that single eye of hers. There are little teeth gnawing at their fingers now, Shorn looks down to see their pinky and ring finger become a toy. If they had flesh and real pain receptors- this would not be a very comfortable experience.

“I think we may be the first to have an animal Guardian of the Light.” She says after some time. Shorn raises an eyebrow at her, not expecting the response. “So, what are you going to name him?”

Shorn smiles and looks down at the cub that unfortunately caught Zion in his paws and the ‘Oh no, not again’ remark from the Ghost.

“His name is Inigo.” Shorn says without a second more. Inigo’s ear flicked towards them. “Welcome to the team.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorn: Uh, Zion- are you actually okay being a chew toy?  
> Zion: You know they say a Guardian and a Ghost are alike in personality. Well, I'm going to look like you at the end of this.
> 
> (Finals kicked my arse) 
> 
> Merry Christmas everyone!


	8. New Looks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Trio is still lost, but they find some things long the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi yes, this semester at Uni kicked my ass but I am still alive, I think. It' been a while since I touched this- but let's get back into the groove of things

Inigo chirps on Shorn’s shoulder, paw swatting a low hanging branch as the Exo ducks under it. 

“Admit it, we’re lost.” Shorn gives an exaggerated sigh, following the glitchy, old Golden Age holographic map that they managed to salvage and work. “We’ve been going aimlessly for what- weeks?”

“No one asked you to use that old map.” Zion retorts, flying in front of their face. Shorn blinks and shrugs.

“I mean come on- we could find old Golden Age settlements long forgotten to the nature. Think of the adventures and things we can find.” They say, moving their head slightly as they feel Inigo gnawing on their ear. “Hey, hey- that’s not a chew toy- and you agreed to it Zion.”

“And I’m starting to regret it.” Zion says sarcastically. But she doesn’t want her Guardian to know, her scanner still does not work properly- something is blocking it and it’s coming from this direction. Deep in her little processor, she did want a sense of adventure. One she can share with her reckless Guardian and their new companion. Shorn follows the Ghost down the thick foliage. 

“Do you even know where we are going?” Zion hovers by their opposite shoulder- out of Inigo’s grasp. Shorn steps into a small clearing. There is a dull blue and green colored downed jet- clearly made for transporting stuff. The slight discoloration says it’s here for a while, but there is no clear insignia of the faction. 

“Uh-”

“One step ahead of you.” Zion zips towards the wreckage with Shorn drawing their hand cannon, ears and any senses peaked for any shift in the air. Her scanner shows that there  _ was _ signs of living- maybe a few days old. There was clearly signs of skirmishes with the charred holes in the thicket around the ship. 

“Someone was here.” Zion calls to Shorn, who quickly jogs over with Inigo by their side. The Guardian peers around the wreckage, ‘ears’ scanning the radio frequencies around the ship. They spot a few crates tucked inside, deciding to look at it in a moment. Zion listens in, gently extending their range with her limits. They look at the pile of metal scraps by their feet, and Shorn nudges it aside- revealing still functioning tablets with log dates on it. Could it be a journal of a Guardian?

“The insignia is a Last City.” Zion says as Shorn picks it up and lets her scan it. Word for word- the journal was not a Guardian- but it was a Guardian, whoever had it did not reformat it. “It’s a journal from the Last City.”

“What’s it say?” Shorn presses, picking up a box of ammunition hidden in the stache.

“Pilot and crew of three humans were Guardians- shot down overhead and crashed here.” Zion transcribes. “They were here for a few weeks it seems… but-”

“Hm?” They tilt their head. Zion squints.

“It doesn’t seem to make sense- either they lost the ability to read and write or someone started a new page and can’t write at all. My best bet is-”

Inigo hisses, drawing Zion to vanish into Shorn’s mind and Shorn to look in the direction. They can both hear the air moving around them. There was a sharp bang and a bullet striking the metal next to Shorn’s head and exclamation points fly into their field of view. The Exo quickly dive to the side behind a large chunk of metal, hand cannon raised and ready to fire. Another bullet strikes the muzzle of their gun, knocking it out of their hand. 

“Shit!”

“Scavengers. Of course it had to be them.” Zion sighs as she amplifies Shorn’s internal radar and senses. The Exo pointed in the direction of the three red blips and fired, hearing something heavy fall and one of the blips to move away from them. The third one sprinted out of the bush with a long knife, clearly human covered in hides and patchwork armor. Shorn’s hand catches him by the throat and pulls the body in front of them as the gunfire ring out, letting the scavenger catch the bullets. With the direction of their attacker known, Shorn grabs the homemade knives on the body’s belt and throws one into the brush. They hear a choking noise before a soft thud. They see the blur of Inigo vanishing into the brush. Shorn throws the body aside and focuses on finding the third assailant.

“Where the hell did you go?” Shorn readies a throwing knife, ears twitching and eyes scanning for any movement. They hear a soft rustling.

“Up!” Zion shouts in their head- but a tad too late, the feral attacker crashed on top of them, knife missing their neck by a mere inch and diving straight into the dirt. 

“Holy shit!” Shorn snaps their head back to the masked killer and punches him right in the head before rolling away and grabbing for their hunter knife. A war cry and a glint of a knife in the edge of their vision forces Shorn to keep the offending hand with a knife away from their eye. Shorn gets a good look at the bandaged face under the patchwork mask. They can see the rotten teeth and bloodshot green eyes. 

“Hello to you too.” Shorn chuckles. A boot slams into their leg, causing it to buckle a little and they barely missed a makeshift brass knuckle of bullets to the face as they stagger back. Shorn draws their knife from their hip and swings, the scavanger ducking their swipe and elbows them in the side. Shorn brings their elbow down on the side of his head, and slides back two strides to put distance between them. Shorn’s foot nudges a solid bar of metal as thick as their arm at their feet and quickly picks it up. They hear quick footsteps and side steps away from a downward slash-

 

They slam the bat-shaped metal into his head like a bat. Zion flinches within Shorns shared mind. There was a echoing  _ punt _ as the body was sent backwards onto the dirt, unmoving. Shorn tosses the gore-splattered metal on the ground in disgust. 

“Yikes.” Zion manifests beside their head. 

“That was disgusting.” Shorn flicks the bits of what remained of his head off their armor and face. Zion materialised aside from them. 

“You got a little something on your… everywhere.” She blinks. Shorn grunts and wipes a bloody hand on her face. “Hey!”

Shorn ignores her and walks over to the dead body and crouches beside it. There was no insignia whatsoever left on the apparent uniform. But they did find a few more throwing knives and glimmer on this one. Shorn walks over to the next one- the one they used as a body shield. Nothing of interest but some bullets.

“I don’t get it,” Shorn hums, placing a finger on their chin. Zion looks at them for explanation. “If they did murder the crew- there should be  _ something _ worth stealing from a Last City crew.” 

Shorn walks in the brush and inspects the now mauled body. Nothing of interest.

“Unfortunately there’s nothing from them.” They huff before Inigo drops down beside them, something bright in their mouth. Shorn and Zion look in interest as the leopard drops a hand size device at their knee. It was silver and red with a cracked but still functioning screen. Zion floats down and scans the object.

“Good boy.” Shorn gives him scratches under his chin. Inigo rubs his cheek on their arm before resting his head on it. They turn the tablet fully on and holds it up to Zion to scan. 

Zion inspects the layers and layers of images and coordinates floating in their processor. A few were maps filled with lines and flights paths of multiple colors. Zion whooshed it away to dig into more recent logs. Another map pops up with a short red line and few line of text:

 

Order: Run route supply, surveillance of local area for Red Legion or affiliates  


 

Destination Route: Last City 

 

“It’s a flight map!” Zion flickers back in front of Shorn’s face. A map blinks into their vision, it had a single flight path from a unmarked location. “This was a scout and supply ship that is heading back to the City.”

From the map, the supply stop was not too far from them, just over a hill in the distance. 

“We can make stop at the supply base and maybe hitch a ride back to the City.” Zion suggests. “Speaking of which- that actually explains the crates.”

Shorn turns their attention back to the ship and pauses for a heavy second. “Speaking of crates. I don’t think anyone would mind if we take a peek in them.” 

“I’m sure it’s fine.” Zion hovered by their shoulder as they jogged back to the ruins of the ship and return to the crates of interest and brush some of the warped pieces of metal aside to reveal fully reveal the crates. They take out their knife and jam the bloody knife into the first crate’s locks. Shorn tears the top off to reveal a crate full of ammo, a few scout rifles with different modifications and a shiny new hand cannon. 

“Well, I guess good gear can’t go to waste.” Shorn looks at Zion who bobs up and down in agreement. Inigo gives a crate a swat with his paw. “I take that as a yes from Inigo.”

Shorn discards their old weapons to the ground and picks up the hand cannon, sheathing it to their hip and picks up the most modified scout rifle in their hand, feeling the heavy weight in their hands. It was well made to begin with, painted dark blue and yellow with a suppressor and short ranged scope. “Not bad.”

Shorn places it on the ground and moves the crate aside to reveal the second one and opens it. It was filled with a set of armor made for a scout. Shorn pulls out a a simple dark blue and grey full cuirass, gauntlets and boots that guarded their shins and knees. The boots also had a masking traction- made to move without noise or leave behind tracks on muddy ground.

“I think it’s time to replace this.” Zion mentions at their bullet-torn, knife-slashed, worn and torn armor. A Guardian is supposed to religiously upkeep their gear, but they do not have the luxury of material and equipment to fix their armor to begin with and exposure to the elements did not help their case. 

“Yeah… I think it is time.” They started with removing their holsters and belts before stripping the old armor from their body and discarding it onto a heap on the floor.   


Zion’s scanner indicated that Shorns ‘nude’ frame is a bit different by design. As far as Zion was aware, Exo’s do come in a variety of modifications. The design is still humanoid with synthetic skin and muscular curvatures, but it had vents located behind the shoulders, lower ribs and calves. The spine has ridges and metal plates curved around their torso like an extra grey ribcage. Zion notes their fingertips looks like it has remnants of a sheath for possibly housing retractable claws. Could there be more functions that is in Shorns programming that is not found in typical Exos even by _legal_ modification standards? 

Shorn slips into the thermo-insulated undergarments, feeling comfortable as it is hugging their metal frame   before strapping the armor pieces over the cloth and weapon holsters and cloak. It fit like a glove on their body as Shorn gives an experimental shoulder roll.

“No helmet?” Zion asks. Shorn shakes their head. Zion is only aware that the even the brave is admirable but foolish to fight without a helmet no matter how seasoned the warrior is. The helmet Shorn is holding vanishes into their digital inventory.

“It doesn’t feel right.” Shorn shrugs as they sling the modified scout rifle over their back. Inigo pads over to them, sniffing their new gear. Shorn rubs behind his ear before turning in the new direction of the supposes resupply camp over the hills. 

“Well, let’s get going- we can probably get there at nightfall.” Zion says in a positive tone. 

“I think we can.” Shorn gives a small smile and tugs the hood over their head.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorn's new gear looks similar to a Warhammer 40k Scout (Carapace) Armor.

**Author's Note:**

> Behind the scenes:
> 
> Shorn-5: I thought you were going to show me how to fly this.
> 
> Zion:...
> 
> Zion: I don't even have hands, Shorn. How would I fly a ship?!


End file.
